15 things no one tells you when you lose a parent suddenly
Today marks the birthday of an incredible Dad, Husband, Brother, Brother-in-Law, Son, Son-in-Law, Uncle, Colleague and Friend.
Admittedly, I used to take joyous celebrations, such as birthdays and Christmases, completely for granted. Naively, and regrettably selfishly, I was oblivious to those who no longer had a loved one with them on such occasions. Now that I’ve joined that club, and now that my dad is no longer physically with us, I’ve come to realise how these days, that should be days of happiness and celebration, can be tainted with the harsh realities of loss.
On Sunday 23rd February 2020, at 9am, paramedics confirmed the unimaginable. My dad had suffered a cardiac arrest, ironically after having returned home from his early morning run. Unfortunately, he could not be revived despite courageous efforts from my mum, my brother and multiple paramedics.
Whilst this has been my first experience with mortality, and perhaps in many ways that counts me as lucky, it has exacerbated the realisation that death really is a taboo subject in today’s society; something I have undeniably been guilty of avoiding acceptance of and conversation of in the past. Since my dad’s sudden death, I’ve wanted to keep talking about him, and the thought of forgetting about him or pretending he never existed in conversation is an upsetting prospect.
My dad was not ill, he wasn’t unhealthy or overweight, and he wasn’t unfit. In fact he was quite the opposite. We had no idea, and no reason to believe, that our lives would be turned upside down on such a regular Sunday morning. I look back on what we’ve experienced as a family, and often wonder how we managed to scramble through the plethora of emotions and processes that followed.
On reflection, I now view my life in two chapters; one before - where dad was around. And one after, which is a different life that I’ve had no control over choosing, and one that I’ve had to adjust to, but one that can still be happy, fulfilling and successful.
Therefore, I have put together ‘15 things that no one tells you when you lose a parent suddenly’, in the hope that it either resonates, helps understand or brings hope and comfort to others. And hopefully you’ll notice that the more you read, the more positive the outlook becomes...
15 things no one tells you when you lose a parent suddenly
You’ll spend the first few days, weeks, even months in shock. Walking around in a giant bubble and with a hole in your heart, as though life has become a dream and that one day you’ll miraculously wake up.
You’ll constantly wonder if you could have done something to prevent it from happening. And your heart will never stop feeling broken for the parent and siblings left behind.
Before you know it you’ll be sat in a funeral parlour with the realisation that death really does exist. And you’ll try to comprehend how this can possibly be real, because only days before, your life as a family couldn’t have been happier.
You’ll struggle to talk about them in the past tense and you'll struggle to envision your life ahead without them - mourning for the things they’ll miss out on... birthdays, supporting sports events, weddings, Christmases, anniversaries, the arrival of grandchildren etc. One of your biggest supporters is no longer able to tell you how proud they are of you. But I like to believe they will always be with you in spirit, beaming down with pride.
Lots of people will tell you they “can’t imagine what it must feel like”. Which ultimately, is true. But you’ll be overwhelmed by how thoughtful, generous and caring your friends and family are; with cards, flowers, phone calls, visits, food and care packages from some very, very special souls.
Many people will avoid the topic in conversation. This is most likely because they either feel uncomfortable or don’t want to make you sad. But that’s not their fault, it’s society’s fault for making death such an unspoken subject.
You’ll find a strength and determination you never knew existed when you tell people how proud you are of such a wonderful person during your speech at the funeral, should you choose to do one.
You’ll begin to wonder if you’ll ever stop crying or feeling sad, but a friend recently told me, “it really is ok to not be ok”. The sadness will never disappear. But I see it as a measure of how loved they are. The more they are remembered, the more they live on in our hearts.
You’ll find out all sorts of wonderful and funny things about them that you never knew, from people you don’t know and may not ever meet. It’s so humbling learning about how others knew and perceived them and hearing their unique stories. And I am eternally proud of the legacy my dad left behind, one that many people I’m sure could only dream of creating.
You’ll come to terms with the fact life sometimes makes no sense at all. And life can be very unfair. I still like to believe 'everything happens for a reason’. But this time round, I’ll be searching for that reason for a very long time...
You’ll develop a true appreciation for the little things in life, whilst the small, petty worries and annoyances won’t have any place in your life again. There you go, there’s always a silver lining...
You’ll feel forever changed for losing someone so special, but please be assured that you are the way you are, because of them. Isn’t that is a beautiful realisation?
You’ll have a burning desire to become the things you loved most about them… for me it’s to be as kind, caring and humble as my dad was.
You’ll realise just how lucky and grateful you are to have known such an incredible person. And that’s something that money nor time can't buy.
You’ll experience first hand the true meaning of ‘life is too short’. So wake up each day and remember that life is a gift and there are still many reasons to be happy.
Remembering Dad…
“The world needs more like Brian"
